Yearning to reach you
like out of body experience.
Dreams will not agree.
He was stunned when
you disappeared in flames.
Was this a protest?
Reincarnation?
I will wait until the death
of the Super moon.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Like a subcutaneous infection the caldera builds, hot and angry. This warning has a usefulness, an energy that can be used, an alternative embrace. A caress directed at the genitalia. Something in the air lands on a flower oblivious, unaware.